


The End of the Beginning

by PoeticEmptiness



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Female Apprentice (The Arcana), Gen, Other, POV First Person, Pre-Canon, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:35:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25424767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoeticEmptiness/pseuds/PoeticEmptiness
Summary: My female OC, Hande Kuura, has been apprenticing in doctor Julian Devorak's clinic for almost a year during the Red Plague. Old memories don't leave her be and a new disaster awaits behind the corner.
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a first fanfic I've ever written, so feedback is more than welcome.  
> English isn't my native language, so I apologise for any grammatical errors.

”You look tired.”

Julian examines me, looking worried. I hand over research reports I've promised to get, but he barely glances at them – instead, he lowers his hands on my shoulders and starts to fuss like a mother hen about my health and dangers of exhaustion.

”You're one to talk! You don't look any livelier than me,” I answer to him, ”You look like you've stayed up for days!”

Julian turns his gaze from me. Nevertheless, I see his reddened ears; I was right, like I supposed. Julian's been slaving himself in the palace for weeks to find a cure for the Red Plague. Count Lucio has also become ill and he has summoned doctors and magicians, among other things, to work in his palace to find the cure – Julian is one of them. I look after his clinic near Vesuvia's city center while he's away. I'm touched by how much Julian trusts me; I've only been his apprentice for less than a year. We've been working closely together during these months, although lately Julian has spent a lot of time in the palace, and has only dropped by in his clinic.

I turn his head so that our eyes will meet again. When he finally agrees to look me in the eye, I give him a smile:

”Julian, I'll say this as a friend and not as a colleague: you need to rest! I know, how you've been working hard to find the cure. What good is it for anyone, if you drudge yourself to death?”

Julian sighs and mutters his habitual explanations, how he has a duty to all the Vesuvians and the Count. I wish he'd understand, that he doesn't have to carry the worries of the whole world on his shoulders... Julian blushes again, when I raise my eyebrows to his excuses. 

”Alright, alright, you win. I'm just frustrated, that people get sick and die all the time, and it feels like we're no closer to a solution than during the first cases,” Julian sighs once again, but continues after a moment of silence. ”However, I'm not kidding, you also look exhausted. What kind of teacher would I be if I let my own apprentice to burn herself out? I know, that you are busy at the clinic and yet I make you bring me reports...”

”It hasn't bothered me. Last night was busier than usual and I couldn't sleep properly. Besides, it's nice to see you: days at the clinic feel a little dreary at times, without you telling your stories.”

A bashful smile rises to Julian's lips and he taps on my shoulder: ”It's nice to see you, too. Between us,” Julian lowers his voice and comes closer, ”your company brings refreshing change to count's tantrums.”

I cannot help but laugh at Julian's remark: ”Is the situation that bad? Are you sure he is sick at all, if he still manages to rant at you?”

Julian utters a laughter, too: ”If his scleras weren't red, I would claim that he's well.” Anyway, he gets serious again. ”He isn't well nevertheless: he's lost weight, because he has lost his appetite. In spite of all, I feel a little sorry for him.”

A smile escapes my lips. Julian is so goodhearted; Count Lucio is anything but easy patient, and still Julian sympathizes him. I can understand why, for the Red Plague is a horrifying disease and gradual withering of people because of it is a miserable thing to witness. I hug Julian and in a moment he hugs me back. We just stand silently some time embracing each other. Finally we let each other go and Julian opens his mouth:

”Thank you, Hande. I didn't realise, how much I needed that.” The doctor's trademark grin rises to his lips, before he continues. ”Because both of us are tired, can we make a deal: I promise to rest after you've left, if you send your reports to me by letter from now on?”

I tap my chin pretending to think about his suggestion. At last, I grin back at him:

”Deal.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hande feels tired and lonely while working on Julian's clinic on her own. She also gets an unexpected reminder of her fight with Asra.

I close the clinic's door after the last patient. I lean against the door for a moment and sigh: fifteen new plague cases. I never seem to get used to having to deliver the bad news. Obviously patients have already realised, what's wrong with them – it's pretty hard not to notice scleras now turned red – but when they hear the news from a doctor, it feels like they die a little already at that moment. I always try to treat them extra gently, although I know, that no words can bring them comfort. They end up in Lazaret to wait for their death without knowing, how much time do they have left. Some will hang on for months, others will perish in days. There are so many sick and dead, that Count Lucio ordered his architecht to build a crematorium to the Lazaret. There are so many bodies accumulated, that there's no time to bury them all.

I shake my head to get rid of my gloomy thoughts. I take off my mask and take a deep breath; I want to rid myself of odour of the herbs, because it reminds me of only death. However, I don't regret that I decided to stay in Vesuvia. I've managed to make numerous healing potions and spells even before, but as Julian's apprentice I've got lots of valuable information about medicine at a concrete level. Additionally, if I could ease patient's malaise and fear of death even a little, my work is not in vain. If only we could find a cure for this miserable disease... How many more have to die, before this scourge subsides? I write today's report to be sent to Julian, before I lift the mask back to my face, lock the clinic's door and go home.

I'm able to walk on the streets in peace, not meeting even an occasional passerby. I also guess, that the few people who dare to leave their homes would avoid me; a plague mask of a doctor arouses fear among citizens. On the other hand, I'm relieved that people don't try to speak with me. Their desperate pleas for that I miraculously would manage to heal them or their loved ones frustrate me. I feel so powerless to have to say that nothing can be done. Not even my magical methods have brought any relief, although I've used most of my spare time to find out possible ways to cure the plague... I should try not to think the situation all the time – it's not healthy to wallow in such thoughts, they do nothing to help... Cold wind makes my body tremble and I wrap my traveling cloak tightly around me.

I'm relieved when I arrive to the door of my shop. Before the plague situation worsened, I used to sell magic tools in a shop I inherited from my aunt, but after becoming Julian's medical apprentice, the shop remains closed. The shop is my safe haven; there I can escape all the sadness, anxiety and fear caused by my work. I take off my mask and traveling cloak, and go upstairs. When I get to my living quarters, I'm starting to cough – have I catched a cold? I decide to make myself some tea to soothe my mind and ease my cough. When I get into the kitchenette, I ask my stove salamander to light a fire, and bring the water to boil. I take a book from my shelf and sit down at the table waiting for the tea to finish.

I open the book and startle, when I see the text on the cover page in a familiar handwriting:  
_You came to my mind, when I saw this book. I hope you like it! Asra._

Asra... I haven't seen him for months, not after he left from Vesuvia to escape the plague. He hasn't even written to me, so I've decided not to write to him. I've tried not to think about him and thanks to the rush, I've succeeded, but the inscription of the book restores the longing in my chest. I wouldn't want to admit it, but in spite of all I miss him; his smile and encouraging words, as well as Faust, of course...  
Where are they now and how are they doing?

***

_**Nine months earlier...** _

Asra enters the shop. He looks worried, even fearful.

“We need to talk.”

I look at him astonished. I've never seen him like that, so it has to be serious. I close the shop for today and encourage him to go upstairs. I pour water into a kettle and turn to look at my friend:

“What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

Asra paces restlessly around the kitchenette, before he sits down. However, he soon gets up and put his hands on my shoulders. We silently look at each other for a moment that feels like an eternity before he opens his mouth:

“I'm worried about the Red Plague. The number of cases is increasing, and it's only a matter of time, before the disease spreads here as well.”

Indeed. I know, that the Red Plague situation has worsened during the recent months and that worries me too. The disease has claimed lives of the strong and the weak, the young and the old... No cases have yet been reported in our neighbourhood, but like Asra said, it's only matter of time before a first person becomes ill. I lay my hand on Asra's hand, which is still on my shoulder.

“I know. I'm worried myself. I want to help the sick and do my part to find a cure for the disease. So, today I've met Doctor Devorak, who kindly promised to take me as an apprentice at his clinic.”

Asra looks at me in shock and squeezes his hands harder on my shoulders:

“You did what?! Don't you understand; the plague will destroy the whole city and gods know how many more will die! We need to leave Vesuvia immediately!”

I stare at Asra in disbelief – I've never seen him so angry. His words feel like a parent's rebuke for a disobedient child. My shoulders start to ache and I push him further. 

“I can't believe you... I thought you would be happy, because I want to help those in need. Instead you shout at me like I've just committed a murder! Do you think things will be resolved by escaping? If the plague isn't stopped, it could spread beyond Vesuvia and after that no one is safe! We could harness our powers to help the sick together!”

“Don't you see? If we stayed here, we'd endanger our lives completely in vain!”

My mind is bubbling with anger and I can't control myself:

“In vain? IN VAIN? How could you say that? We are magicians, we know a lot of ways of which non-magicians have no idea! I can't turn my back on the Vesuvians, not when I know I can help them!”

Asra takes a deep breath and tries to smile:

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shouted at you... I'm just worried about you; I don't want you to get sick. Please, come to Nopal with me, there we'll be safe.”

I shake my head in anger. How can Asra be so selfish? I've known him for five years and he's one of the most goodhearted people I know. 

“I refuse to leave Vesuvians in distress, not when I know I can help! Besides, Doctor Devorak believes in my abilities enough that I can become his apprentice. I can't betray his trust, not when he accepts me at his clinic, even though he's not obligated to do that.”

“Doctor Devorak will certainly be fine without you. There are also other doctors in Vesuvia, and they won't miss you.” Asra lands on his knees in front of me, “Hande, I'm begging you. Come with me. There's nothing left for us here, why go to battle against windmills?”

My feelings are a mixture of sorrow and disgust. I can't stand looking at Asra begging me to leave, although I've just explained why I want to stay.

“Have you listened at all, what I have said to you? The plague could very well spread beyond Vesuvia, if it continues for a long time. I have a duty to help; people are suffering and Count Lucio does nothing to help us! If our Count and his court do nothing, at least someone needs to try! Doctor Devorak wants to find a cure, and needs all the help he can get! How can you be so selfish in a moment like this?”

Asra stands up and starts laughing mockingly:

“Selfish? You call me selfish? I'm not worried about myself! I'M WORRIED ABOUT YOU, HANDE! What do I do, if you get sick and I lose you?”

“Oh, so am I obliged to run, because YOU TELL ME TO? I have a right to my own choices and I've already explained, why I want to stay. You don't own me!”

“I'm not telling, but asking! Don't you understand, you're too impor--”

I can't take any more of his explanations, but I interrupt him:

“Oh, you think I'm important, huh? What makes me more important than anyone else? And what about Muriel, why don't you ask him to come along? He's been your friend for much longer than I have, and he even lives with you!”

Asra blushes and turns his gaze away from me. His following words are more muttering than speaking:

“Muriel will manage... He doesn't meet other people and he's safe in the woods.”

“Why don't you stay with him in Vesuvia, then, if the woods are safe? You could help others from there! And what makes me different from Muriel? Why should I run and leave the Vesuvians in trouble and Muriel all alone?”

“You want to dice with death! I can't take it, if you die...”

“I don't know you anymore... Just because I help people doesn't mean I'd automatically die! You don't give a shit about your other friends and people, who trust us! Why should I leave the life I've built here and abandon my principles? EXPLAIN!”

Asra looks alternately at me, alternately at his feet. He opens his mouth to say something, but shakes his head instead and hardens his expression:

“I've had my say. I'll ask one more time: please, come with me.”

“And I've made my decision. I'll stay here.”

“Then I'll leave alone!”

“THEN LEAVE!”

Words spill out of my mouth without thinking. However, I'm not going to give up; if Asra can't see, why I want to stay in Vesuvia, and won't even tell me, what makes him ask specifically me to go with him, let him go then. Asra looks broken and offended. He looks at me for a long time in an embarrassing silence. After a time that feels like an eternity he whispers:

“Very well. Do as you wish. Goodbye.”

I meet his gaze and don't budge. Asra turns on his heels and strides downstairs. I'd like to run after him, but my feet refuse to move. I hear the shop door open and slam shut. Asra is gone.

Realising what just happened, my legs give out and I collapse to the floor. Tears flow down my cheeks freely. I feel more lonely than ever before.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A raging fit of cough interrupts my work; it doesn't subside at all and my notes are filled with saliva splashes. Wait a minute... I summon an orb of light on my palm and inspect the stained paper in more detail; the splashes aren't saliva, but blood._

My sleep is abrupt, I keep constantly waking up because of a fit of cough. Of all times to catch a cold, Julian is in the palace all the time and only occasionally drops by the clinic... Regardless, I can't stay at home; patients need me and research won't wait, either. I get out of bed and make myself some tea. I drink my tea in silence and ponder over the schedule for the day ahead. Eventually I go downstairs and organize the shop a little before I put on my mask and head to work. 

The working day goes by at a regular pace; patients arrive in a steady flow, most of them having a plague. I give them some soothing medications and escort them to the docks, from where a boat will transport them to the Lazaret. Caring for rest of the patients is relieving, for I can usually cure their ailments. I feel tired and make cough now and then, but otherwise I'm fine. In the afternoon I close the clinic from customers and continue my own research to find a cure for the plague.

I'm so wrapped up in my research, that I don't notice the time pass. I'm dead on my feet, but I can't afford to stop now – Vesuvias fate is in the hands of all who work on the cure, including mine. I startle when a key turns in the lock on the front door. The door opens and I hear Julian's voice:

“Hande, are you here?”

“I'm in the back room!”

I haven't made a sound for hours and talking makes me cough. Julian is standing in the doorway and although I can't see his eyes underneath his mask, I feel my teacher's scrutiny on my face. Julian takes his mask off and starts to speak:

“Are you alright? Your cough sounds nasty.”

I turn to face Julian and smile to him, “Don't worry, my throat is just dry; I haven't spoken for a moment.”

Julian nods and gets me a glass of water. I gratefully accept it and after taking the first sip I feel a little better, “How's the research in the palace going?”

Julian looks at me with a weary look on his face, “Badly. We've tried this and that, but it feels like we're going around in circles... So, I came here to pick up more books, if they were of any help.” Julian moves to the bookshelf to examine the works there, before he continues, “How's it going here?”

“Same old song and dance; more plague cases and taking patients to the docks... It feels so miserable that I can do nothing but ease their pain a little. I've tried today to do my own research in regards to the cure, but no avail...”

Julian has stacked several opuses in his hands and puts them in his bag. “I'm sure we still find a solution, believe me! I'd love to stay and chat with you more, but I have no time to waste. You go home for today; you need rest so you have strength to work again tomorrow.”

I raise my brows before I answer, “Remember to rest, too – none of us are omnipotent.”

Julian grins and pats me companionably on the shoulder, “I'll keep that in mind. See you again!”

Julian turns on his heels and steps out the door. I sigh deeply and decide to follow his advice; I've done my share for today. I stack my notes, put out candles and put on my mask before I step outside.

***

**  
_Two weeks later_   
**

Days seem to go slowly and rush by at the same time. Number of the plague cases has risen explosively and I can feel despair creeping into my mind; what if there's no cure for the disease? Julian hasn't visited the clinic at all, after he dropped by couple of weeks ago. I know that he's working feverishly on a cure. No, we can't afford to give up now that the situation is getting worse, and Julian believes our work is still paying off.

My cough hasn't subsided. My nights are filled with restless dreams and waking up to coughing episodes. I've also lost my appetite and I have often noticed that I've been working all day without eating at all. In the evenings I've forced myself to eat even a little bit of bread or soup at home. Today, when I woke up, I felt so tired that I decided to stay home to rest. I asked my neighbour to go to the clinic to walk and feed Julian's dog, Brundle. I think I'll send a letter to Julian asking him to pick up Brundle to the palace – it doesn't do any good for the dog to be alone, if I don't go to the clinic for several days. 

I'm lying in my bed and trying to read my research reports as well as books whose methods I'd like to try to treat the plague. I'm able to concentrate better when I'm not trying to sit or stand. A raging fit of cough interrupts my work; it doesn't subside at all and my notes are filled with saliva splashes. Wait a minute... I summon an orb of light on my palm and inspect the stained paper in more detail; the splashes aren't saliva, but blood. 

I'm staring at the splashes in shock. It couldn't be..? I force myself to get out of bed and shamble in front of a mirror. I hesitate for a moment before I summon the orb of light again and watch my reflection in the mirror. It feels like a boulder falls into my stomach; my scleras are red. My legs give out and I have to brace the wall so I wouldn't fall on the floor. I've got the Red Plague and I haven't noticed it... My mind is just a cold, empty space – I'm feeling nothing, yet the thoughts seem to be bouncing in my head fiercely. When have I been infected? Have I endangered my patients or Julian at work? How much time do I have left?

I have a frog in my throat: mother and father... How are they going to react to this? First Salma and then me... Should I write to them and tell them what's happened? No... I can't do it, I don't want to worry them in advance. However, they couldn't come here, and I wouldn't want them to risk their lives because of me. I feel so miserable for breaking their hearts... They're going to lose their only living child and it's my fault... Still, I don't regret staying in Vesuvia; I did my best to help others, including my family. The plague hasn't yet spread beyond Vesuvia, and I hope the situation remains the same. 

Nevertheless, I decide to write a letter to Julian. I probably should also write a will... I sit down at my desk, take a quill and some paper, and start writing a letter:

_Dear Julian,_

_unfortunately I've got bad news for you: I've come down with the Red Plague. When I've taken care of my affairs, I'll summon a doctor here to provide diagnosis and will go to the Lazaret. Don't blame yourself for the situation; I knew there was a risk of getting sick, and despite the precautions I was unlucky one._

_I'm going to leave you my research notes in case they'd be useful to you. I'll take Brundle to my neighbour and you can pick her from there. Keep up the high spirit, and don't give up on the cure; you're an intelligent man and I know you will succeed, believe me. However, don't hesitate to ask help from anyone else who works with you in the palace!_

_You've been a great teacher and a good friend during these last few months. It's been an honour to get to know you; I will warmly recall your kindheartedness, your fascinating stories and your harebrained jokes._

_Thank you for everything and be well!_

_Yours truly,  
Hande_

I seal the letter and overwrite Julian's name on it. I take another paper from the desk shelf on which I write my will; I'll leave my shop and all my possessions to Asra. Although I haven't been involved with him for almost a year, he's my friend and for him, the shop will bring joy – he's also a magician, after all. It's better for him to support himself through the shop rather than by selling the prophecies on the street. After finishing the will, I put on my mask and go knocking on my neighbour's door. Shortly he answers:

“Hello, Hande! Do you need anything?”

“Hello. I'd ask you for a favor; I've written a will just in case and I would like to have you as a witness. Could you please give your signature?”

“Well, aren't you on a gloomy mission! Nothing has happened, hasn't it?”

“I'd just like to assure myself for a rainy day, that's all.” I don't want to frighten him by telling him about my illness – my mask should prevent me from infecting the plague, and I will keep my distance from him just in case.

My neighbour starts to smile, “I see. The situation is so unsure nowadays – you never know, what happens next... Of course I'll sign, wait while I'll get a quill!”

Soon he comes back and signs my will. I inquire about Brundle's well-being and ask him to look after the dog for a while longer. I tell him that the reason to my absence is a trip to find some herbs for my remedies. He accepts with pleasure – he loves Brundle. I give him a pile of coins to cover the dog's feeding. Finally, we wish each other a good day and I wave my hand as a goodbye. Next I head to Julian's clinic, where I'll leave my letter. I have to sit down for a moment because the walk has exhausted me completely.

Finally, I take a look at the clinic one last time and commit it's details to a memory. I lock the door behind me and go searching for a doctor. I don't need to search for long; another clinic is just a few blocks away. I knock on the door and enter. A short person with a mask on their face steps out of the back room:

“Good afternoon, come on in! How can I help you?”

I left out a deep sigh and take off my mask. The doctor pauses and their appearance seems discouraged. They come to me, put their hand on my shoulder and encourages me to sit down. I obey them, but I can't meet their gaze but stare at the floor. We keep quiet for a moment, before the doctor starts talking:

“I'm terribly sorry... As you probably now, you have the Red Plague. You seem to be a doctor yourself, am I right?”

I nod to them, “Actually, I'm just an apprentice, but I've taken care of my teacher's clinic on behalf of him. At the moment, he's working at the palace.”

“I see. What kind of symptoms do you have, in addition to red eyes?”

I tell the doctor about my cough and loss of appetite. I also mention, when milder symptoms likely have started. They write down the information I've provided. Then they go to examine their medication shelf, take a bottle from there and hand it to me: it'll ease the cough. 

“Take a teaspoonful of that twice a day. It should keep fits of cough in control. Would you like to tell me your name?”

“Hande Kuura.”

“Kuura, what an interesting surname! You're not from here, are you?”

“I was born and raised in Karnassos. I moved to Vesuvia two years ago. My parents are still living in my home town: Sardar Gul and Helena Kuura.”

“I've visited Karnassos a few times, it's a beautiful city... Now then, I have all the information I need written down. I'll just make a copy and then everything is ready. I'll escort you to the docks, from where they'll take you to the Lazaret.”

“Before we go, I'd like to ask for a favour; I've written a will, which would need yet another witness. Could you please sign it? I'd also like to stop by my shop, I'd take my will there, if it's alright.”

The doctor pats friendly on my shoulder and say they agree to both of my requests. Although I feel empty inside, it's like a weight lifts from my shoulders; everything is in order now. I put my will back in my bag, lift my mask on my face and we're heading to my shop. After we arrived there, I take off my mask and look around me; I want to memorise every detail. This shop is filled with memories – it holds sadness, joy and numerous stories. I slowly get upstairs and walk through my living space. I feel wistful, I'd just want to stay here. A tear escapes from the corner of my eye, but I whisk it away.

Oh, how much I'd be willing to give to have a chance to say goodbye to my loved ones, to see them one last time... I miss my parents, Julian, even Asra. I just want to curl up in some corner and hope someone would take me in their arms, comforting me. This isn't how it supposed to end... I crouch and cover my face with my hands. Take deep breaths, panic and regret won't do any good... You can't change the past and --. My life is going to end in Lazaret, like so many others. Well, at least I tried to make a difference, to help others... I didn't give up.

I raise my head and take a deep breath. I cough, but this time there's no blood, thank goodness. I slowly get up, put on my mask and return downstairs. 

“I'm ready,” I tell to the doctor. When I put protective spells on the shop's door, my hand lingers on its surface; I want to remember its texture and homely scent. I slowly turn on my heels and head with the doctor towards the docks. We walk in silence, but it doesn't bother me. Actually, I think it's better that the doctor isn't trying to talk with me – now I can focus on watching the familiar views of the city in peace. At last, we arrive to the dock, from where plague patients are transported to the Lazaret. The doctor hands me my medical records and offer their hand:

“You've done important work. I'm sorry it have to end like this. Good luck.”

I take their hand and thank them. Besides me, there are three people in the boat; the colour of their eyes suggests, that they have the plague, as well. I take off my mask and try to smile encouragingly to my fellow passengers. One of them smiles back, but rest of them are avoiding my gaze. A rower pushes the boat from the dock and we set off. The sun is shining in the clear sky; it feels strange, that the weather is so beautiful, although we're heading to the island where our lives are going to end sooner or later. The Lazaret towers over us, dark and omnious.

Eventually, the bow of the boat hits dry land. I get off the boat staggering and I step towards a gate leading to a building. I can smell bitter smoke and I'm starting to cough. Yes, my journey ends here; all hope is lost.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hande's body is fighting against the plague, but her time is running out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very angsty chapter, so consider yourselves warned. The chapter also describes hallucinations.

I'm laying on a bed and staring at a wall. I'm not sure how long I've been here, at the Lazaret – I think, however, that it's been weeks since my arrival. My memories about my time being here are very fragile; I'm feverish, and not entirely sure what things have really happened and what have been fever dreams. Cough and aches have been bothering me, but now I'm feeling almost tolerable and I'm able to think straight. At least I know, who I am and where I am...

My bed is closest to a wall. I'm happy about that because in that way I don't need to see faces of other sick people all the time. There's rarely a quiet moment to enjoy; whether it's someone crying, moaning or yelling the names of their loved ones. Besides, a crematorium is right next to our room, and too often the air is filled with smell of burning flesh. At first it made me feel sick, but nowadays I'm used to it... Yes, there is other reason for why it's good that my bed is positioned next to the wall; it's the furthest place from the crematorium. I can always turn away when corpses are delivered there...

I've heard nothing of Julian or Asra. Do they even know that I'm here? Well, I guess that doesn't matter... Anyhow, they couldn't come to visit me, even if they wanted to. Still, I'm occasionally bothered by longing and I'd give anything to meet one of my friends or my parents one last time. I tried to offer my help to the people next to me at the beginning, but while I keep losing my strength I stop caring. Doctors are doing their best to help us feeling comfortable, but I already am in so bad shape that it's almost impossible to ease my pains. Although my body's trying to fight against the death's grip to the very end, sometimes I hope it all would end soon. I just want to sleep, and I wouldn't even mind if I didn't wake up anymore...

A shadow is towering over the wall. I snap out of my thoughts, and turn my head to see what's going on. I meet an empty, read gaze; wait a minute, it's a mask... One of the doctors... I struggle to turn around so I could face them properly. The doctor bends over to talk to me:

“Do you need anything?”

Do I need, I need..? A fit of cough shakes my body before I have time to even consider the question. Blood splashes on doctor's apron but they won't even bat an eyelash. Routinely the doctor snatches a bucket from under my bed and holds it under my face to prevent my sputums from making a mess. My throat hurts and I feel dizzy... At last the cough subsides and I'm gasping arduously. The air is stale, it's filled with stench of sweat and blood... The stench of death... I'm trying to raise my head to face the doctor, but I don't have enough strength so I address my words to the bucket:

“Wa... wa-ter...”

The doctor leaves for a moment and returns with a cup of water. They help me to sit and bring the cup to my lips. I'm sipping the drink cautiously – I don't want to waste even a drop. The doctor patiently waits until the cup is empty, before putting me back to bed. They probably are still talking to me, but I can't make out anyhting of their words. I hear chattering and clacking of hooves. As though I'd be in a market square...

_“Don't worry, Hande, I'll get it!”_

That voice... Salma? What's Salma doing here? She can't be here, she's dead... I'm desperately turning my head to find the speaker. There's fog everywhere... Aha! There's light at the end of the corridor and someone's standing over there. I'm squinting my eyes to make out of their face; it's Salma, running down the street to fetch my ball of yarn that's rolled over there. No, no, no...

_Salma raises her hand triumphantly; the ball of yarn seems to be shining in sunlight. I smile to her, but then I notice a carriage approaching with great speed._

_“SALMA, LOOK OUT!”_

_It's too late; Salma is already under the carriage. The driver has fallen to the ground by the force from the sudden halt, but I don't care about her – I must get to Salma. I'm running to the street, although the horses are extremely bolted, and I throw myself over Salma to protect her with my body. I crouch low as the horses rise to their hind legs. Someone surges in front of us to restrain the horses, allowing me to focus entirely on my sister; she's so bloody..._

My eyes fill with tears. Why didn't you stop when I asked you to? Salma, I tried to warn you, but I wasn't fast enough... Will I lose you again? I can't do magic well enough, Salma's injuries aren't healing... Salma, don't go... Don't leave me alone...

Someone's beside my bed, I can feel it. I turn to take a look and open my mouth to shout, but a cry dies in my throat; Salma is looking at me, covered all over with blood, face and chest mangled. She kneels down next to my bed and begins to talk with rasping and gargling voice:

_“Hande... Why didn't you save me? Why did you let me die?”_

My answer is hardly more than a whisper, “I tried, I tried... I tried to heal you with magic, but I couldn't... Your injuries were too severe...”

Salma tilts her head, as if examining me. I still can't be entirely sure, because her eyes are swollen. It scares me to look at her, but I can't turn away; I haven't seen Salma for years and longing is filling my heart. Eventually, Salma speaks again:

_“I was afraid... I didn't want to go, but you didn't help me to get back... I was left all alone in the dark...”_

“I tried... Salma, please, don't leave me...”

I feel hands keeping me pinned. What's happening? Where am I? I can't see Salma anymore and I'm starting to panic. I want to see her, to talk with her... Someone puts something cold and wet on my forehead. Go away, leave me alone... However, I don't have enough strength to fight against them. Someone's holding my jaw to keep my mouth open and something sour is draining into my mouth. I'm coughing, but I need to swallow. I can still hear Salma's voice somewhere:

_“I'm waiting...”_

***

I'm gasping desperately, but every breath hurts. Oh yes, the Lazaret. I'm in the Lazaret... I have the Red Plague. It's killing me slowly, but surely. Someone's chattering to me reassuringly, but I don't have enough concentration to listen to them. Tears are falling down my cheeks. Someone's stroking my head and I close my eyes. I see familiar faces in my mind: mother, father, Julian and Asra. I suddenly feel myself peaceful, almost safe. After some time, I notice that I'm alone again.

I'm startled when someone opens the hatch of the crematorium. I must have fallen asleep... I force myself to turn; I can see, how doctors are pushing a corpse into the crematorium. For a moment there's orange light lurking into the room, licking the corners of it. I smell fire. Ash. Smoke streaming from the crematorium.

I'm staring at the flames in enchantement: it won't be long now. Those flames are my only future. The fate of everyone who comes to the Lazaret. One of the patients starts to scream in horror and doctors are rushing to calm them down – they don't want the room to be filled with panicking patients. I don't have enough strength anymore to follow the events in the room. My eyes close. My cracked lips struggle to form words:

“I'm... sorry...”

I failed... I didn't manage to save Salma or plague-sick Vesuvians... Did I even try hard enough, or did I rely too much on the palace team to find a solution? I'm all alone... Yes, there are others in this room, but I know none of them and everyone's just waiting for their death alone... Well, I guess I deserve it... To die alone... I want to go to my mother and father... Oh, if someone just held my hand... Anyway, it isn't my destiny. I'll stay alone in the dark... Until the flames will embrace me.


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being away for a long time, a friend comes looking for Hande.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's point of view is third person.

Sunset has painted the sky red orange. A lean figure in colourful clothes is standing in front of the magic shop door. A magenta scarf and a black hat hide most of their face; only violet eyes stand out clearly. The stranger seems to hesitate before they knock on the door. No answer. The knocker backs away a few steps and peeks through the shop's windows; no lights or movement.

The stranger seems to get lost in thought. There's something moving inside their sleeve and a head of a lavender-coloured snake peeks out of the cuff. Its red eyes seem to be observing its companion with concern, _“Friend?”_

The snake isn't making a sound, but its companion meets its gaze, as if they understood the creature, “I don't know, where she is, Faust. Normally she's home at this time...”

Faust slithers on her companion's shoulders and flicks her tongue, _“Worried.”_

“I'm worried about her, too. We've been gone for so long... I can't sense her presence at all. Just like she hasn't been home in ages.”

_“Neighbour?”_

A hint of a smile dances on the person's face, “That's a wonderful idea. Maybe he knows something.”

The stranger lowers their scarf; their golden brown skin basks in the light of the evening sun. They walk to a door of a house next to the shop, knock and wait for an answer. In a moment the door opens. There's a friendly smile on the face of the inhabitant as he asks if he could help the comer in any way. The neighbour knows Hande, but doesn't know anything about her whereabouts. He tells that he last saw the magician two months ago, when she went off to search some herbs for her remedies, and asked the neighbour to look after her medical teacher's dog. The doctor had fetched his dog from the neighbour about three weeks ago.

“Aha, that explains, why Hande didn't come to open the door... Do you happen to know the doctor's name?”

“Doctor Devorak. His clinic is a few blocks from here.”

“Thank you for the information! Have a good evening!”

The inhabitant closes the door and the stranger moves along. They decide to search for Doctor Devorak's clinic and ask him about Hande. The search isn't as easy as they have imagined; the stranger must stop to ask passers-by for advice a few times before they find a right door. After a moment's hesitation they knock and step in through the door. A slender and tall man with auburn hair steps out of the back room. He breaks into a smile:

“Good evening! How can I help you?”

The stranger takes off their hat and white, curly hair is revealed beneath it. They look around before aswering, “Good evening. Are you Doctor Devorak?”

“In the flesh. What brings you to my clinic?”

“I'm Asra Alnazar. There's nothing wrong with me, but I've heard that you are Hande Kuura's medical teacher. I'm a friend of Hande's. I visited her shop, but she wasn't home. Her neighbour hasn't seen her for months. Do you know, where she is?”

Doctor Devorak's smile dies and he seems to shrink. The doctor starts to pace around the room and seems to be wondering what to say next. Chills begin to creep along Asra's spine; what's happened? At last, Devorak takes a deep breath and starts to talk:

“You haven't heard, then... I'm so sorry... Hande... She's dead.”

Asra's knees are knocking. No, no... It couldn't be possible... He would have sensed if something had happened to Hande... Then again, why would the doctor lie to him? Doctor Devorak looks very devastated after having to tell him the news. Asra tries to walk, but his legs give out – Doctor Devorak strides to him and gets a grip of him before Asra falls. The doctor guides Asra to sit on a chair:

“Easy now. Now then, keep your head down, I'll go get some cognac.”

Asra feels lightheaded. He's reminded of a fight he had with Hande about a year ago. It was the last time he saw Hande... Guilt begins to weigh on Asra's shoulders; why didn't he stay to help? The doctor's steps are now closer. He puts a glass on the table and helps Asra straighten his back against the chair. Asra carefully takes the glass brought by the doctor and drinks. Doctor Devorak's eyeing his patient scrutinizingly:

“Can you sit?”

Asra nods, “Yes. Thank you, I'm feeling better already.” He takes another sip of cognac before continuing, “What happened? To Hande, I mean.”

Doctor Devorak sighs deeply and sits down on an empty chair near Asra. Asra notices that the man's eyes are sparkling with unshed tears; he clearly struggles to stay calm. It seems that Hande had also been an important person to the doctor. The duo sits in the tense silence for a moment that feels like an eternity until Doctor Devorak begins to speak:

“Unfortunately I don't know the details... When it happened, I was working at the Palace on a cure for the plague, while Hande was taking care of my clinic. I hadn't been to my clinic for quite some time, but when I finally went there, the place was empty and on a table a letter from her. She had contracted the Red Plague... I went to the Lazaret to inquire about her, but... Hande... She had died, less than a month earlier... I'm so sorry...”

A single tear flows down the doctor's cheek. Asra feels a little embarrassed, but also pities the man; clearly it pains him to reminisce those events. The doctor's reaction also confirms that Hande was more than a student to him. A blush rises on the doctor's cheeks and he coughs:

“Sorry... I'm a doctor, but still I'm weeping... I should stay strong... I... Hande became a dear friend to me during the months she worked with me. I'm also sorry that I wasn't there for her, when she needed me the most...”

Asra smiles bashfully before he answers, “There's nothing to apologize for. The loss affects you just as much as me. Hande is... was a person you couldn't help but like; she saw something good in everyone.”

Now a shy smile rises on Doctor Devorak's face, as well. He wipes his eyes with his sleeve and takes a deep breath, “Yes, she was indeed an unforgettable character. She managed to smile even during the darkest moment and believe in our cause... With Hande, I could talk just about everything.” Suddenly Doctor Devorak startles, as if he remembered something,  
“Your name is Asra, isn't it?”

Asra answers the doctor's question in the affirmative. Doctor Devorak strides into the back room and Asra hears him searching something from his desk's drawers. In a moment the man returns with an envelope in his hand, “Hande had left me not only my letter but also an envelope with your name on it.”

Asra accepts the envelope with trembling hands. It feels heavy; there must be something else than just a letter. He opens the envelope impatiently, and a bunch of keys falls into his hand. Asra recognizes the keys – they are to Hande's shop. Asra checks the envelope again and takes out a piece of paper with a short letter written in a handwriting very familiar to Asra:

_Dear Asra,_

_I sadly have to tell you, that I've come down with the Red Plague. When I've finished my preparations, I'll go to the Lazaret to wait for my destiny. I'll give you my shop; I hope it'll bring you joy and guarantee you a permanent livelihood. My will is in the shop._

_I want you to know that despite everything, I don't regret my decision to stay in Vesuvia. However, I managed to bring comfort to many of the unfortunates and did my share to find a cure for the plague._

_The only thing I regret is the fact that our last encounter ended in dispute. In spite of everything you're a dear friend of mine and you'll be in my thoughts until the very end. I hope you won't think badly of me._

_Your friend forever,  
Hande_

A tear falls on the paper. Asra sniffs and presses the letter against his chest. How could Hande think that Asra would think of her badly? He never could, Hande was his best friend... More than a friend... And in his foolishness, he didn't tell Hande about his feelings and now... Now it's too late... Hande is gone, and he'll never get the chance to apologize for his selfishness and for leaving her alone... At the same time, Asra overcomes with determination; he needs to get to Hande. He meets Doctor Devorak's gaze and says:

“Thank you for retaining the letter and giving it to me. I will always cherish it. I will not bother you any longer, thank you for your help and hospitality. Also, my condolences to you; I can see that Hande was an important person for you, as well.”

Doctor Devorak smiles to Asra ruefully and moves to open the clinic's door for him. As Asra steps out, the man grabs him by the shoulder and wishes him courage. Asra smiles to the doctor and proceeds on his way. Moving away from the hustle and bustle of the street, Asra closes his eyes and tries to sense Hande – although she's dead, Asra should be able to find her if he just finds Hande's magic trace. Asra takes the keys of the magic shop into his hand and focuses on Hande. After a little while he senses the familiar energy and starts to follow it.

The trace leads Asra to the docks, but he knows that his journey isn't ending there; Asra senses Hande's energy coming from the Lazaret. Actually, he shouldn't go to the island as it is only for doctors and people with the plague, but Asra doesn't care. He must find Hande, come what may – he wouldn't give up. Asra observes his surroundings and sees a person holding a boat. He approaches the owner of the boat and asks if he could rent it. When the owner sees pearls Asra digs from his pockets, they agree to his offer at once.

Asra rows resolutely towards the ominous island. The quarantine building rises behind him menacingly, but he decides not to care about the nasty feeling that is radiating from the island. As he gets closer to his destination, a bitter smell of smoke penetrates Asra's nose and he begins to cough. Now isn't the time for hesitation or thinking about the origin of the smoke – the only way is forward. Eventually the boat hits the shore and Asra barely has patience to tow it to dry land before continuing his journey.

First he approaches the quarantine building, but he senses that Hande isn't there anymore. Asra closes his eyes and tries to concentrate; if he just got a better grip on Hande's energy, it feels so flickering. Eventually Asra understands which direction he needs to go. He turns his back to the building and heads towards the beach – he's a little scared, but doesn't let it bother him. Hande is here somewhere and Asra intents to find her. The beach is deserted and the wind blows ash in addition to sand. Vesuvia rises on the opposite shore; viewed from here, it almost looks serene and safe, at least compared to the oppressive and melancholic atmosphere of the Lazaret.

Asra isn't sure, how long has he walked on the beach. At last he stops, for he feels as if an invisible hook is pulling him down. He's staring at his feet; beneath them is only sand, but somewhere beneath it lies what he's looking for. Asra falls on his knees and starts digging with his bare hands. The work is progressing slowly, and nothing but sand hits his hands. Asra's eyes stare at the ground and he's drudging as if possessed. At some point, his hands are scratched with grains of sand and his blood mixes with it, but Asra doesn't notice that.

Asra doesn't know how long he's been digging when something solid hits his hands. A glimmer of hope flashes in his face and he begins to move the sand more carefully. However, the feeling fades soon; in his hand is just a broken and charred piece of bone. Asra tries to dig the pit even deeper, but only ashes and more bone fragments come out. _Is this all that's left of Hande? She wasn't even buried properly!_ The pulling feeling that has smoldered Asra on the inside has subsided, which confirms his foreboding. He stares at his hands stupefied; grains of sand have sunk into his wounds, but he doesn't even notice it. Asra couldn't comprehend, how Hande could fit entirely in his hands, it shouldn't be that way.

His body begins to tremble, his breathing becomes unstable and shallow. Asra tries his best to prevent the remains of his friend from falling out of his hands, and pulls his hands closer to his body. Eventually, the situation strikes like a lightning into his consciousness and tears begin to flow freely on his cheeks. Hande – the light of his life – is dead. She died, and she didn't even have a body left. She died in this miserable place, all alone, and her remains have just been thrown into a beach pit like rubbish.

“I'm sorry... I'm s-sorry, Hande...”

Asra sobs uncontrollably and can't help but repeat his apologies. _I betrayed you; I abandoned you, when you needed me the most. You didn't even know how much you mean to me... I never told you how dear you are to me. And yet I left you alone, waiting for to die in the dark. And at the same time you left me alone, alone, alone..._ The long-forgotten agony fills Asra's chest; he had found in Hande the family he has now lost, just like the one long time ago... He feels he can't take it anymore – he's sure his heart will give out at any moment.

 _No. I won't have it! NO!_ Asra's eyes fill with rage and he clenches his fists. Pieces of bone are scratching his palms but he doesn't even care. His body stops trembling and he looks up at Vesuvia; the Count's palace is flickering on the horizon. At first Asra just stares at the towers standing in the distance, but then he remembers a phrase he heard years ago: _“Everything is possible, as long as you're willing to pay the price.”_ A tense smile rises on Asra's lips; thoughts become clearer in his mind and his path is clear. He opens his palms and kisses the ashes and bone fragments on them, and whispers into his hands:

“Don't worry, my love. I'll bring you back, whatever it takes.”


End file.
